October New Releases from BWL Publishing

Don't miss these great reads. Click the covers for purchase and author information...

BWL OCTOBER RELEASES

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When the World is Your Stage by André K. Baby

Visit André K. Baby's BWL Author Page for information and Purchase Links to your favorite bookstore.

 Hi everyone,

As a newcomer to this group, I would like to share with you few thoughts on the “métier” of writing thrillers.

One of the first challenges a thriller writer faces when putting down the foundations of his/her story is choosing the size and type of stage on which to set the story.  Will it take place in a room, on a ship, a train, in a town, or will the action take place in many locations?  Each scenario has advantages and disadvantages, while having its own set of opportunities and restrictions.  The one-location thriller will be perfect for the exploring of personal relationships and the intensifying of conflict between the characters.  Added tension is provided by the constricting aspect of the limited dimensions of a room, plane, train (aka “Murder on the Orient Express”), submarine (“Hunt for Red October”), etc.…

Alternatively, the story tension in the multi-venue thriller will be provided in part by the external stimuli offered by the various locations. The reader is transported to the locale, and will enjoy, tolerate, or suffer the physical characteristics of that locale along with the protagonist/antagonist. He’ll freeze in an Alpine mountain shelter, sweat and be thirsty in the Libyan Desert, enjoy the turquoise waters of the Caribbean, etc… Well developed, settings virtually become characters in the story.

Having been a longtime reader and admirer of the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Graham Greene, Ian Fleming, Len Deighton, Robert Ludlum, John Le Carré, Ken Follett and others, the multi-venue stage has always held a particular attraction for me.

In “The Chimera Sanction” (and its stand-alone prequel “Dead Bishops Don’t lie”), I like to think I’ve brought the reader to out- of- the ordinary locations, thrusting my protagonist Dulac into the throes of conflicts  at these  sites.  Having the action take place at the Vatican, on the searing sand dunes of the Libyan Desert, then in the middle of a storm in the Mediterranean offers reader stimuli unavailable in a single-venue story. These settings offer unique opportunities for tension, without the loss of focus on the story. Another benefit of the multi-location thriller is that it allows the author to develop parallel story lines, which funnel down into one towards the end of the story.

In my latest thriller “Jaws of the Tiger” published by BWL, I thought I would try the other option, the one locale setting in the form of a hijacked cruise ship where the action story develops, and combine it with the follow-up investigation of the crime. One might say it’s a cross-genre, combination action thriller and whodunit, and I hope it will appeal to readers of both groups.

Comments anyone?

Cheers,

André K. Baby

People Are Dirty by Katherine Pym

 Buy Here

Public Bathing (Unlikely 17th Century tho but a good pic)

I grew up in an engineering family and worked many years for Boeing. There, great flying machines are built that can stay in the air for literally hours and hours and can jet halfway around the world without refueling. This is well engineered stuff.

With that in mind, I’ve always considered the human body a high maintenance machine. It is fragile and can’t take much without breaking down. It must regenerate for literally half its shelf-life. It requires hours of upkeep, always needs wiping down or, over the years, completely submersed in water with gallons of soap. The fueling of the human body is a constant thing, with a prodigious amount of venting waste. This turns out to be an expensive, never ending maintenance slog.

Who would have thunk this a good design? Not me. I’d really like a conversation with the designer and tell him my thoughts on how the human body could be improved. But with that conversation unlikely, I’ll have to stew over the poor engineering.

Let’s take one of the above items for discussion. Bathing. Keeping clean. It’s a constant thing, but until fairly recently, not much was done about it. You see historical portraits of men and women who don’t smile. They are dressed in their finest ‘Let-us-go-to-church-outfits.’ They look clean, but in reality, were they?

I’d call myself a historian, mainly London during the 1660’s, but through research, I’ve ventured beyond and prior to those years. During my reading, I only once came across the process of bathing. Samuel Pepys wrote in his diary of his wife’s thoughts on the subject, who considered it might be a good thing.

Once born, no one was ever truly naked, again. When you see paintings of naked men and women, it is fantasy. Men and women were considered naked when they wore only a thin muslin dressing gown or shift. Men’s shirts were long and covered their sensitive parts. Drawers were coming into favor but mostly women did not wear any type of undies. Their sleeping, going about the day shift was a multi-tasked garment. 

Bathing Back in the Day

If one immersed in water, he or she wore the shift. No soap touched that part of the body. When one began a new day, he or she might splash water on their faces and again at night, but little else. Bowls of water were on the table for greasy hands. When they went to the bathroom, there was no toilet paper. People used their hands, clumps of moss, damp rags, etc. Household refuse and old water were cast out the window or door to molder in the street.

Soap was available but in potash liquid form. Common bar soap wasn’t invented until somewhere in the 19^th century. Clothes that resided against the skin, i.e., shirts, chemises, shifts, stockings, bed linens were washed and hung to dry on rails or on hedgerows. One text I read said women would dump up to a pound of soap in a caldron to wash clothes. Even after rinsing, surely the fabric would be stiff with soap residue.

Silks, brocades, or woolen clothing would be brushed and worn until they were stiff with dirt. If they were still usable, they’d be sold to a seconds clothing merchant or given to the rag boy.

Bathing in the Thames amongst boats and whatnots

There were waterworks on the north side of London Bridge that pumped water into a few of the wealthier houses (obnoxiously loud and bulky, especially during the tidal flows). There were two conduits for water (on great occasions they ran with wine), one small and the other much larger, along Cheapside Street where you could dip your buckets, but most of the time water-boys dragged water up the London hills to homes from the Thames River, a waterway fouled with human waste and rubbish, sometimes a dead body or other animals.

So, even if you tried to remain clean, it was pretty much an impossibility next to what we expect in today’s hygiene. It would be like smearing a wet dirty cloth over a smudged and sweaty arm.

Nits Anyone?

Men and women wore their hair long. During the 1660’s King Charles II (whose hair was thinning and started to go grey) emulated his rival, Louis XIV and began to wear periwigs. Everyone who was anyone followed suit. Since there was no shampoo, hair and periwigs rarely got washed, and if any sort of soap was used, it made hair sticky. Instead, hair and periwigs filled with nits that turned into lice. Body wrinkles, folds, filled with dirt and body lice. Sores developed and became infected. If they went septic, the person died.

People stank. They covered this stink not with soap and water but perfumes. They shook pomanders filled with perfumes and spices (expensive). They chewed mint for bad breath. They walked down streets riddled with piles of stinking rubbish. Contents from chamber pots would be cast into the streets crowded with pedestrians.

I say, if an extraterrestrial species drifted near in their spaceship, they would smell earth before ever seeing our planet. That’s probably why they only monitor our radio frequencies and don’t make actual contact.

And that is why I consider our bodies a poorly constructed machine where we should get our money back from the manufacturer.

The End.

~*~*~*~

Many thanks to Wikicommons, Public Domain

Cemetery: spooky or fascinating? by J.S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

Call me weird, but I love visiting cemeteries where people have been buried—unburied and reburied—for centuries. Day or night, graveyards are quiet and peaceful, but I'll admit I've never ventured in one in the middle of the night alone. I might find it spooky...

While I was in Paris, I made a point for visiting the catacombs with my daughter. It was eerie to see the skeletons neatly stacks into a solid wall so they wouldn’t tumble. Some of these bones or skulls were three or four hundred years old. Though I write romantic suspense (there are a fair amount of dead people and old bones in my stories) I've never googled how long it took for bones to decompose. Maybe I should have, because I would have guessed way less than four hundred years.

While seeing bones and skulls is interesting, I’m most fascinated with grave markers and the inscriptions on them. There are a lot to learn from the names, descriptions, and dates.

During a three-day vacation in Iceland, hubby and I rented a car and toured the island. In the countryside, we stumbled onto an old church dating back to the middle ages. Behind it was a small cemetery. Graves were marked with wooden crosses or headstones. The oldest grave dated back to the 11^th century while the most recent burial had occurred in my lifetime. I was amazed that most of the inscriptions had weathered the centuries. It was interesting to see how some names change through time (an "S" that disappears, or a "D" that becomes a "T"), and to travel from one generation to the next and discover the family connections between the dead. Some had died young while others had lived to see their seventieth or eightieth birthday. To be honest, I was surprised to see so many of them reach an advanced age during the 12th or 13th century.

The early markings on the gravestones behind that little Icelandic church fascinated me, especially the ones dating back to the middle ages. I have seen many ways to write dates, but  that was my first encounter with this specific form. I wish I had taken a picture, but the battery on my phone was dead. I wrote an example of the markings on a piece of paper (see photo).  In that example, the person would have been born on April 17, 1263 and would have died on October 30, 1318.

My current story "Misguided Honor", which I'm hoping to finish by Christmas, revolves around an unusual  graveyard near Annapolis Royal in Nova Scotia.  I've lived near Annapolis Royal for three years and my second daughter was born there. Back then, I was too busy raising my young children to spend time in graveyards. If only I'd known then what I know now...

Last year my hubby built my family tree. My ancestors arrived in Canada in the early 1600s. In my youth I'd heard stories about some of the males marrying native women, so I wasn't surprised to learn I indeed possess native blood, though it's very diluted after thirteen generations. What I didn't expect was to learn that a big branch on my father side settled in Annapolis Royal in the mid 1600s then fled to Quebec in the mid 1700s to avoid the great deportation. I had no idea that many of my ancestors were Acadians. These first settlers from whom I descend are probably buried in Annapolis Royal cemetery—a few streets from the hospital where my daughter was born more then two hundred and fifty years later.

I wish I had known when I lived in Annapolis Royal that I had come full circle. Now I long for a chance to walk into that cemetery. Maybe one day...

JS

 J. S. Marlo's Website

October's New Releases ~ and Special Happy Pumpkin Giveaway

BWL Publishing has some exciting new releases for October.

First, we have Thriller, Suspense author Ron Crouch with The Secrets of Liam Treadway releasing the first week of October.

 http://bwlpublishing.ca/authors/crouch-ron-suspense/

Liam Treadway, retired police officer from Brighton Borough Police, reflects on his long life.  An evacuee from WW2 London Blitz, something has been nagging at the back of his mind.  A secret well kept, he decides the time has come to tell his daughter the truth.  Will he be able to follow through and if he does, will she forgive him.  

Next in line for October, from BWL author Eden Monroe, we have Gold Digger Among Us.  And if Gold Digger is anything like Dare to Inherit, Eden Monroe's first Romantic suspense with BWL Publishing, readers are in for a wild ride with lots of excitement, some sizzling spice and some keep the lights on and lock the doors scares.

Rancher Dade Tanner and his old flame, Kerrah, have some serious unfinished business between them - a five-year love affair that came to an abrupt halt one terrible night. Now it’s ten years later and she’s back – but the rules have changed, dramatically. She is not welcome on the ranch, accused of an ulterior motive to return since the family patriarch, Buck Tanner’s bout with ill health. Nevertheless she fights to stay in the one place that has ever felt like home. 

However the Tanners have locked horns in a power play, and Dade’s older brother, Virgil, is a sinister force that threatens not only Kerrah, but the very future of the JW Tanner Ranch. Who will survive Virgil’s private game of greed and vengeance?

http://bookswelove.net/authors/monroe-eden-mystery/

Wild Horses of Alberta by Nancy M Bell

My latest novel Wild Horse Rescue released On September 21, 2018. You can click on the cover to learn more about it.

The inspiration for this story came from the wild horses of Alberta who mind their own business and struggle to survive like any wild animal. Unlike a 'wild' animal, the horses are considered 'feral' by the powers that be and therefore have no protection. In fact the Alberta government has a committee that decides when they decree there are too many. They can decide to initiate a 'cull' which means the horses are rounded up indiscriminately regardless of age or gender and sent to auction where most end up in the hands of the meat buyer. Some of the members on this supposedly impartial committee are the very people who will participate in the cull and benefit financially from the sale of the horses. Fences have been left unrepaired and gates open so the horses wander unto 'private' land, often lured by feed or salt block, although of course this is denied vehemently by the perpetrators.
Those horses are on crown land, land the people of Alberta supposedly have rights and access to. However during one cull a few years ago, the rancher with the cull permit locked access gates and refused entry to Alberta citizens. To make matters even more convoluted five people who were doing nothing more than observing were arrested and held for a number of hours and had to go to court to be proven blameless. The official stance is that the horses have no natural predators which of course if untrue and has been rebutted by advocacy groups. Help Alberta Wildies is a group of concerned citizens who advocate for the horses and bring their interests to the public forum. You can follow them on Facebook at Help Alberta Wildies. There are a number of photographers who routinely go out and take photos while watching over the horses. There have been recorded instances of foals being caught in deep snow and floundering, left by the herd. Young horses so covered in ticks they are anemic, attacks by cougars, wolves and coyotes on young, sick or older horses.

The wild horses in the western United States face similar challenges and their round up methods include chasing the horses (including young foals) by helicopter, insisting this is the best and most humane method. I can only IDIOTS! You can follow their story on Facebook at WIld in North Dakota and The Cloud Foundation.
I am not a bleeding heart city girl, I'm a horsewoman with many years of experience and I can say with no reserve that most of the official babble from both sides of the border is HOGWASH. That's the nicest word I could think of.

In Wild Horse Rescue, Laurel Rowan who fans of mine will remember from Laurel's Quest and the other books in the Cornwall Adventures, is back home in southern Alberta. Her Cornish friend Coll Tinne is visiting for the summer. The wild horses are under a cull order and Laurel refuses to allow the horses she so loves and admires to be denied their freedom and their very lives. So she sets out to find a way to help them. The stallion in the story is Coal, but he is inspired by the stallion known as White Spirit who lives with his band near Sundre, ALberta. I have moved the horses in my story from Sundre down to near Pincher Creek, Alberta. Although I don't believe there are any wild horses left in that area. There used to be wildies on the Suffield Military Base living quite in harmony with their surrounding. However the Alberta government in their infinite wisdom decided to remove them all, a lot of them went to slaughter, but some were bought by concerned citizens who fought to keep the bloodlines alive. There is a Suffield Mustang Association where they keep track of the horses and the breeding lines. When the horses were removed the government introduced elk to the area, now twenty years later they find the elk (who aren't indigenous to the area) are destroying the riparian areas by the water holes and the grazing. Now, they are talking about 'managing' the elk. Again, I say IDIOTS. Bureaucrats who don't understand the animals or the land listen to special interest groups who have their own agenda which has more to do with money than the environment or the animals well being.

The wildies are born wild, they live wild, they survive as they can, the weak fall and the fittest survive. They are as wild as any deer or moose. Hanging the 'feral' tag on them just makes the wildies easy pickings for the unscrupulous. I encourage you to take a look at the Help Alberta Wildies facebook page. There is another group called Wild Horses of Alberta Society, however they support the cull and also birth control for the mares, which I do not. Many of the ranchers would be very happy if the horses disappeared altogether and that will be a sad day for Alberta and the world.

Duane Starr is one of the photographers who follows the horses. The photos below are his work. PLease realize most of the images are taken with telescopic lens, the photographer is not near the horses. You can also see the damage logging has done as the horses graze in the mess of the clear cuts. And yet the government and ranchers claim the horses are destroying the landscape.

White Spirit

Darrel Glover also took some of the pictures and the black stallion in the snow is by Rick Price

Clear cut mess

This little guy is Kai when he was found, he was snowbound and freezing. Some riders found him and rescued him. He was severely under weight and covered in ticks. He survived but sadly before he was two he succumbed to colic. However, he was loved and cared for during his short life, so fie on the ones who said he should have been left to die, 'as nature intended'. I believe if he was 'meant to die' the riders wouldn't have found him. Perhaps little Kai was test of our compassion, courage and greatness of heart. In which case some people would have failed miserably. I bless Help Alberta Wildies for taking care of Kai and loving him.

Some of the wildies doing what they do to survive.

Time to Lighten Up (And Tell a Cat story)

Transport to Fort Providence residential school is only the beginning of their ordeal, for the teachers believe it is their sworn duty to “kill the Indian inside.” All attempts at escape are severely punished, but Yaotl and Sascho, along with two others, will try, undertaking a journey of 900 kilometers across the Northwest Territory. Like wild geese, brave hearts together, they are homeward bound.

Find Snow Goose and other historical novels @ these sites:

http://amzn.to/2jZPtIR

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/fly-away-snow-goose-nits-it-ah-golika-xah-1

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fly-away-snow-goose-canadian-historical-brides-collection-book-8-juliet-waldron/1127581811?ean=2940158604010

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Okay, this is a cat and cat "owner" story. I'm in  need of some relief from increasingly Dystopian reality. Maybe you are too.

We recently acquired a new cat. "Willeford" (who came up with that?!) is a used cat, so, as they say about cars, he's only new to us.  He arrived from a kill shelter in a nearby county, a nondescript gray tiger, eight years old and all busted up and weak on the back end.

Yes, not only is he an elder cat, but he's also a "busted" cat. When we first got him, he couldn't even uncurl his tail. He could take zero pressure from a hand gently stroking his hips without sinking to the ground. He's gaining strength after these months of happy release from the rescue cage in which we found him. Someone may have stepped on him, as he's one of those cats who imagines his people can see in the dark. I've narrowly avoided falling over or stepping on him quite a few times in the last months.

At our house, he's been able to run up and down stairs for therapy, to leap onto beds and chairs and cat furniture for cuddling and combing. His injuries no longer preclude his jumping onto the kitchen counter to demand a faucet water drink, or, his personal favorite, a glass filled to the brim with water set beside us on a desk or table for our convenience--at least that was the original plan.

Willeford has turned mostly into William, or Willy. When he's a real sweetie, it's WILL-YUM-YUM, or just YUM, for short. Cat names often start out grandly, but, I've found, quickly morph. We once had an elegant feisty black female named "Bast-Ra" but that eventually became what our youngest child could pronounce at the time, which was "Bap."  "Bap" it remained, even after he could say Mom's fancy original.

Willy came with more than a few unusual feline behaviors we've never coped with before. For one thing, at first he was super needy. I spent the first few hours he was home, lying in bed with him where he hugged and kissed and rolled all over me, all while purring and drooling like a mad kitty. He non-stop kneaded any body part he could reach. I stayed because I didn't want to leave him in such a state, so I was just a quiet cat mom for him until his anxiety wound down.

He spent the night with me and for most nights following, though I can't say either of us got much sleep, as he spent the time crawling all over me and purring. His favorite resting place, because I am a back sleeper, was on top of my face, chest down and with his cat "elbows" digging into my neck, so that eventually my throat would close. Then I'd  choke and have to push him away. I've tried all sorts of strategies to get him to accept other more acceptable (to me) sleeping positions, but it's literally taken months to get him sufficiently relaxed in order to do so. Now, we share a pillow, though I have to be firm in order to keep enough to accommodate my skull. Even now, sometimes, he'll wrap his kitty arms around my head and then drag the rest of his body close into a wrap-around. It's like a fur "face-hugger" and the mental image is not pleasant.

Big Feet

 Almost a year in and his behavior is slowly changing. Some time in the summer, he made a decision to decamp to some spot more distant, perhaps onto the foot of the bed, or into bed with my husband whose larger frame accommodates his weight and sharp elbows better. It gives us both a breather, although I have to admit to liking the creature comfort of a cat pressed against the torso on cold nights.

We have no idea what went on with his last human, but, as Willy'd arrived at the shelter starved and "from the streets,"we came to believe that his person had died and that he'd been summarily cast out to fend for himself. No wonder all the anxiety, poor guy!

Willy remains an early to bed type of cat. That is, initially, at 7:30, he started calling and then leading us toward the stairs, clear as anything saying "Time for bed."  My husband jokingly remarked that was the time when Jeopardy(c) ended, a classic bedtime for the senior senior. (Yes, I meant to say "senior" twice.)

He likes to play, but he's rough and isn't always careful with his claws or his teeth. At first my legs and arms were covered with scratches and puncture marks too from Sorry! OOPS! I-lost-my-head-for-a-minute bites. Our other (also crazy) cat really doesn't get him at all, and she gets scared and won't play chase as he would like, so now and then he bullies her because it's the single fun feline interaction he can get.

Sometimes I wonder if we should get another younger cat which could possibly break up their negative game by the addition of a third player. Another cat might provide  a playmate for the energetic Yum. Should we do it? But as every cat mom knows, #1 there's a husband problem to be solved even before the inter-cat relationships can be solved. 

Our family has managed as many as five kitties at a time and done a decent job, but we're not getting any younger or any richer, and taking proper care of animal companions requires funds as well as love/time. We're approaching the end of the trail here, and the last thing any elder pet "owner" wants to imagine is that their beloved friends will be cast onto the street as Willeford was.




 ~~Juliet Waldron

See All my novels:

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?Query=Juliet+Waldron

https://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=Juliet+Waldron

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Juliet+Waldron?_requestid=1854149

The Esteemed Right Worshipful Prioress S.R.D. meets Willeford.

How to Design a Fictional Town or City by Connie Vines

Why would a writer design a fictional town or city?

Many writers use actual towns and cities in their fiction, but there are some writers who opt to create their own towns and cities. Stephen King is known for the fictional Maine towns he creates in his fiction. There are various reasons a writer might choose to create a fictional town or city rather than use a real location. The primary reason may be because the content of the story might not be flattering, and the writer, out of respect for the real communities, may create a fictional location to set the story. Fictional settings also require less research. If you're writing about a real place, readers familiar with that town or city will be critical of details that aren't exactly right. Creating a fictional town or city allows you a wider range of flexibility.

So, how does a writer create a fictional town or city that will convince readers they are visiting a real place?

The first step is obvious.  Find a name for your town or city. Come up with a name that sounds like the name of a town or city. Check maps to ensure the town doesn't exist in the state where you will set the story. If it does, your readers will assume you're writing about the actual town. You can use the name of a real town, just locate the town in a state other than where it exists. Consider names for your fictional setting that are similar in sound or spelling to real places.

I created Running Springs, Montana in my first Rodeo Romance in this manner.  Running Springs is a city in the mountains of southern California.  I placed my town in the Bitter Route Valley of Montana.  The larger towns were towns I visited so those details were familiar to anyone living Missoula.

Draw a map of your town or city. It doesn't have to be detailed, but a map will help you write about your town or city as if it's real. You will know what happens if you head east on Main Street or west on Third Avenue. You will know where your residential sections are, where the dangerous part of town is and what businesses are in town. These are details that will help you bring your fictional setting to life for your readers. 

Populate your fictional town with people that give the town character. Create the types of businesses you'd expect to find in a town of the same size and in the same part of the country as your fictional town. If your town is in a state like Wyoming or Montana, chances are good there will be a farm supply store, if not in your town, then at least a nearby town.

Base your fictional town or city on real places to help you gain your bearings and structure, but avoid using specific landmarks that will give away your model town or city. If a landmark is important to the plot of the story, create a similar fictional landmark.

Locate your fictional town or city near a recognizable real-life city to help give your readers an anchor that will make your fictional town or city seem more real to them. In my Fun & Sassy Fantasy Series my anchor cities are in southern California.  Each city is easily recognizable to my readers.
Sensory details are a must.  What flowers grow on the hillsides of the Montana mountains in the spring?  What does a tack and saddle shop smell like?  The sound of cowboy boots clicking on a weather-beaten stair case?  What does a belting hail storm feel like?

Don’t forget the regional foods and everyday expressions. 

Does you heroine reach for a can of soda, coke, or pop?  Sweetened or unsweetened ice tea?

Details count. 

After all your fictional town is a living element in your story.  Your fictional town has played a part in defining your hero or you heroine.

If the author is very skillful the reader will feel as if she/he has visited this fictional town, or believes this town is a real town. . .somewhere.

What is your take on fictional cities?

Happy Reading,

Connie


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Why do writers like cats? by Vijaya Schartz

Find VIjaya's books from BWL Publishing HERE

As far as I can remember, I loved cats… and writing. I wrote poetry in first grade, around the same time I brought my first stray home. At the time my father didn’t allow us to have pets, but since then I adopted many cats… and I kept writing. I still write, and I still have a cat. 

Some say writers like cats because they are non-intrusive. I beg to differ. Even right now, my cat is begging for me to stop this computer nonsense and pay attention to her. 

Others say cats are the perfect writer’s pet because they sleep a lot and they like daily routines. That part is true. There is a time for me to write. That’s when my cat sleeps. Right now, it’s TV time and I’m still writing, that’s why my cat is so upset. 

Cats are independent, and the epitome of indifference. That part is usually true, unless it’s tuna time, or close to tuna time, or two hours before tuna time, or three in the morning and she decides it’s tuna time. 

My cat's favorite camouflage blanket

So, if cats are just as demanding as other pets, why is it so many famous writers had cats and adored them? My rational opinion could be that cats are quieter than dogs and don’t need to be walked, but I believe it goes much deeper than that. Cats are intriguing, challenging, smart, and obstinate. They tickle our muse. And if I have a question, I can always ask my cat. She will give me the right answer. 

Here are some other reasons why great writers loved their cats: 

"A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not." Ernest Hemmingway 

"I write so much because my cat sits on my lap. She purrs so I don't want to get up. She's so much more calming than my husband." Joyce Carol Oates 

"That's the great secret of creativity. You treat ideas like cats: you make them follow you." Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing 

"I simply can't resist a cat, particularly a purring one. They are the cleanest, cunningest, and most intelligent things I know, outside of the girl you love, of course." Mark Twain 

"I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat." Edgar Alan Poe 

"When a Cat adopts you there is nothing to be done about it except to put up with it and wait until the wind changes." T.S. Elliot 

There is a cat in my latest novel, a telepathic cougar, the companion of my kick-butt bounty hunter heroine. If you haven’t read it yet, pick it up and enjoy.

What in the frozen hells of Laxxar prompted Fianna to pursue her quarry to this forbidden blue planet? Well, she needs the credits... badly. But as if crashing in the jungle wasn't bad enough, none of her high-tech weapons work. She'll have to go native, after the most wanted felon in five galaxies. It's not just her job. It's personal.

Acielon has never seen an outworlder like this fascinating female, strangely beautiful, and fierce, like the feline predator loping at her side. He always dreamed of exploring the universe, despite the legends... and the interdiction. Is it truly a hellish place of violence, lies and suffering? If it spawned this intriguing creature, it must also be a place of wonders, adventure and excitement...

Fianna's instincts tell her someone is watching. Sheba, her telepathic feline partner, doesn't seem worried... yet, something on Azura isn't quite right.

"I don’t know how Vijaya continues to write books that both aggravate you to no end and keep you on the edge of your seat. You can’t put it down until you know what happens next. Before you know what happened, you are at the end of the book and wondering how you got there so fast. It is hard not to get caught up in and lost in the imagery created on the pages of the locations. You can even smell what is in the air. Yet another page turner I couldn’t put down! Thank you Vijaya for keeping me entertained." 5-stars - Beverley J. Malloy on amazon

HAPPY READING!

Vijaya Schartz

http://www.vijayaschartz.com